


Blame it on the Vodka

by Find_Me_Calling_You



Series: Learning to Be Three [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Armie Hammer has a piss kink and I will die on this hill, Blow Jobs, Dancing, Desperation, Foreskin Play, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, POV Armie Hammer, POV First Person, Porn with Feelings, Threesome - M/M/M, Vodka, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Find_Me_Calling_You/pseuds/Find_Me_Calling_You
Summary: Timmy is beyond generous in indulging Armie's piss kink, but this is something new.
Relationships: Nick Delli Santi/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Nick Delli Santi, Timothée Chalamet/Nick Delli Santi/Armie Hammer
Series: Learning to Be Three [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1656886
Comments: 28
Kudos: 71





	Blame it on the Vodka

**Author's Note:**

> I've been lurking in the CMBYN and Charmie fandoms for a while, but my last major contribution to any fandom was *years* ago, so be gentle with me please?
> 
> I love all these boys so much; Timmy and Armie are everything and Nick just fits in so nicely. 
> 
> And I'm next to certain Armie has a piss kink.
> 
> So...this happened.

It starts with vodka. Timmy skinny and beautiful and so fucking young, finally filling out in his mid-twenties, but still so very tiny. Me just a few months out of a ten year marriage and acutely aware of my age. And Nick, smiling with amusement at the both of us while gently guiding us to drink enough water.

I’m not drunk enough to dance, but Timmy is practically vibrating and Nick shares a fond look with me and allows Timmy to pull him out onto the dance floor. Once upon a time, a jealousy in me would have had me stomping across the room to pull Nick’s hand off Timmy’s hip and tear Timmy’s fingers from Nick’s dark locks. 

I was terrified when Niki and Timmy immediately got on like a house on fire, and why wouldn’t they? Both multi-lingual, a smidge more content to float in the background, Nick almost as tall as me and so much freer with the endless affection he lets Timmy preen under. The boner I got watching them, just hours after they first met, pulling each other’s dark hair, Timmy giggling as Nick pressed soft little kisses to his neck, his shoulder, his collarbones, nosing at the crook of Timmy’s neck before giving him a playful lick, was not only confusing but unrelenting until I escaped to the hall bathroom, nothing more than a few quick twists of my wrist before I shot into the toilet with a series of thick, wet plops.

Besides my children, Timmy and Nick are the two people that matter most to me in the world, the love of my life and my dearest forever friend. Neither lets me hide from them, nor do they force me to express myself when I’m not ready. I can’t possibly love them more. When I returned from the bathroom after that confusing little jerk session, both of them looked at me with an immeasurable amount of concern and love. I couldn’t find the words, swallowed hard, but dropped onto the couch next to Niki, squeezing the length of my body between his and the armrest. Timmy immediately crawled from Nick’s lap to mine, capturing my lips in a soul-searing kiss while Nick pressed gentle little kisses against the side of my neck, scratching his fingers against the golden hair at the nape, both of them grounding me when I’m lost in feelings and thoughts I’m still now learning how to handle.

Thinking back to that bathroom jerk reminds me of the bathroom in general, and the growing ache in my low abdomen, turning into a gentle pressure just behind the base of my cock. I’m not ready to break the seal yet, for so many reasons. Partially to avoid the inevitable cascade of bathroom trips that will draw me away from every moment of watching the two men I love dance and play, but also because of the rush of holding it in. Feeling it build, controlling myself, then when I’ve pushed myself beyond the edge of comfort and feel the first drips of fear and shame creeping in, I can seek relief. And what a relief it is when I’ve held it to just the right point of desperation. My cock sensitive, my body almost on autopilot, glorious, warm relief and pleasure coursing through me like an orgasm but for so much longer. And there’s usually an actual orgasm not too far behind.

Knocking back another vodka-based cocktail, I watch Timmy squirm his thighs together and a thick, heady rush of pleasure surge to my groin, adding another sensation to the steady pressure of my bladder.

Tim has been beyond generous in indulging my piss kink. 

We drifted into consciousness one morning in Crema, a bare, tangled mess of limbs and tacky sweat, a whole different stickiness leaking from between Timmy’s sweet little pert asscheeks. I had licked his cum from where he’d shot all over his own belly the night before, so I was a bit surprised to feel a few drops of moisture at my hip, and then Timmy locked his legs against my thigh. Pushing his groin against my skin while simultaneously trying to squirm away, a tiny whimper-moan escaping his lips as his hands scrambled for purchase to raise himself up.

“Baby?” I was immediately worried, raising up, gathering him to me with one long arm while another brought the pillow down behind me more to allow him a more comfortable place to rest.

But he had tensed up and whined pitifully when I held him and I loosened my hold, unsure of how to proceed. In our passionate, wine-fueled love making, had I hurt him? I quickly asked him as much and he shook his head fiercely, cheeks going fire red so fast I was shocked he didn’t seem dizzy.

“I really, _really_ have to pee.” An edge of panic and fear in his voice, trembling, legs locked around my thigh. I should have been a bigger person. A more mature person, perhaps. Not taken advantage of Timmy’s fright and distress, some of the _least_ sexy things on the planet. Been the knight in shining armor he needed. Scooped him into my arms, easily like I’d done a thousand times before and since, and promptly carried him to the toilet to alleviate the burden of his bursting bladder and embarrassment. 

Instead, I had a moment where my brain short circuited from lack of blood flow as my dick went from half-hard, full but just interested in the warmth of the man I loved so dearly, to straining against his thigh as it squeezed mine again, another tiny whimper escaping his throat, and perhaps something else escaping his cock as a tiny flash of warmth raced to the curve of my thigh where it met my groin.

I couldn’t help myself. I pulled him closer, kissed his temple and my hands squeezing his hip, the back of his neck.

“So piss.” A tiny noise of shock. Perhaps mortification, another flash of searing hot warmth against my skin. I nuzzled his sweat damp curls. “It’s okay.” I wish I could have said something more eloquent. Told him not to hurt himself fighting his body. Told him how much I wanted to feel the flood of warmth as he lost control and gave into the pleasure of relief against my skin. Referenced the intimacy of the scene in the book where Oliver presses on Elio’s tummy as he defecates. But this is Timmy, even in his panic, he heard all I didn’t say.

Or maybe his poor bladder just couldn’t wait another second because suddenly there’s a flood of scorching hot liquid pouring across my leg, splattering my hip before rushing down to turn our off-white bed sheets darker with a hint of gold. Timmy’s face, as always, hides nothing from me, the embarrassment giving way almost immediately to pleasure, relief slackening all his previously tense features, then the darkening of his eyes as they roll up and then to my groin where my cock visibly pulses, I’m so hard I think I could shoot off without even touching myself.

Timmy reaches down, shockingly not to grab my cock, but his own, shifting it slightly so it rests pointed in towards my groin, his stream steady and burning, caressing my cock as the light tang of his piss fuses with the musk of my groin. I shout, and before I can fully process it, I come untouched, so hard I can see stars and every sense fades away to static.

When the world comes back into focus, Timmy’s practically done. Just a few little drips and squirts as the angry organ in his low belly makes sure it is thoroughly and completely relieved. His cock is a little more than half hard and he watches me, eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile, a huff of a laugh, before kissing my neck, my jaw, my face, all traces of previous embarrassment gone, understanding, loving, but not quite ready for words.

I think I’m not either until after I’ve freed us from the wet sheets, carried Timmy to the shower and turned the water on, shielding Timmy’s body with my own as it takes a few seconds to warm. Maybe it’s the fact that I usually piss in the shower, maybe it’s what we did this morning, or the cold water running over my skin. Or it could just be that I may have also had a bottle or four of the delicious wines that flowed so freely through dinner, our movie, and late into the night. My own bladder begs for its morning relief and as the lukewarm water cascades over us, I can’t help myself, the arousal taking the words and freeing them from my throat before my brain can stop them.

“Would you be okay if I pissed on you?” Timmy’s eyebrow arches at the boldness, the directness of my statement. I still have trouble getting what I want out when I’m asking for something that I think my partner may or may not like. Habit from years with my now ex-wife.

But Timmy doesn’t pressure me to explain or put me on the spot. Just nods, kisses me soft, sweet. Morning breath has never bothered us, but it’s especially easy to brush away today when we’ve already graced each other's skin with such intimate fluid. I gently maneuver him to slide my cock along his crack, not tempting his sweet little hole but just resting between those luscious cheeks. With his permission, I let go of the hold on my bladder, heat, pleasure flooding me as my piss rushes out against Timmy’s skin.

My hands wander of their own will to Timmy’s cock, finding it fully hard, straining against my palm as my moans and sighs echo around the bathroom. Before my stream has even finished, his shout joins my groan as he comes over my fingers. I’m not sure if I’m embarrassed or not that it takes me very little time at all to shoot another load of come against his low back.

And I may have jerked off again when he made sure not to really wash the skin of his groin and between his cheeks. Knowing my sweet, innocent Elio was going to be walking around today with the combined scent of our piss and semen flavoring his skin triggered something in me that I wasn’t sure was more Oliver or myself. I swear I caught him smirking as I made a beeline for the attic as soon as we arrived at the villa, claiming I left my cigarettes up there the day before when really my cock was enough at the moment to burst right out of whatever shorts would be trying in vain to contain my genitals today.

Another glass of water and the pressure rides the edge of pleasure and pain, the poise of my own self-control turning me on just as much as the idea of actually pissing.

Maybe it was the vodka but I again found Timmy as I pushed off the stool at the edge of the bar, linking my arm with his as he’s gently pulled off the dance floor by a chuckling and mildly tense Nick.

“I know, boo. But I’m gonna piss myself if you keep grinding on me like that. Come on, it’s bathroom break time.” Nick coaxes Timmy off the dance floor. Timmy pouts like a spoiled child and resists lightly even though he’s obviously doing a barely restrained version of his own potty dance.

Nick shoots me a look that’s so deeply grateful, I find myself getting hard at the thought of how full he must be. It’s always an affectionate little smile, a tiny shake of the head when corralling drunk-Timmy, so he must be absolutely dying for a chance to piss, his quiet chivalry keeping him on the dance floor to look out for my sweet drunken disaster of a boyfriend.

We each hold one of Timmy’s hands, our arms all looped together as we make a beeline for the bathroom. As we sneak through the slightly-more-lit hallway of the renovated warehouse, I’m caught off-guard by the beauty in Nick’s furrowed brows and pursed lips. Timmy blew me apart and put me back together again from the inside out, but his body wasn’t the first time I wanted a man.

No, it had been Niki in the terrible, constant horniness of early teenage years, that taught me what it was to _want_ another human being intimately. Sharing our first kiss on his bed at a sleepover before my mother figured out I liked boys too. He was the first person to touch my cock, to make me come, to kiss the head of my oversensitive penis before nuzzling into the fold of my groin and thigh, impossibly tender for how young we were at the time.

We reach the bathrooms and I’m reminded why I hate coming to this club. It was never originally designed for large quantities of people drinking large quantities of alcohol, so there were just four urinals and then a handful of stalls. Pissing here was practically a timed test. No lingering, no stroking, no shaking, just stepping up to the urinal, emptying your bladder as fast as you could before stepping aside for the next person to promptly take your place. There were other bathrooms elsewhere in the club, but if I was getting desperate, Nick and Timmy were probably ready to wet themselves.

It’s Timmy that lurches forward, marches us promptly to the handicapped stall at the end and lets go of our arms to latch the door behind us. I can see a moment’s hesitation flash over Nick’s face. In the privacy of just us, he grabs himself as if he can’t help himself anymore. He doesn’t want to step on my toes, doesn’t want to take his cock out in front of my flirty, touchy, tipsy boyfriend who already crawls all over him. But Timmy and I are so wound together in so many ways, and when Timmy immediately responds by giving Nick a gentle squeeze of the shoulders, I realize that Nick has been the thread quietly and easily filling all the gaps that Timmy and I have in the braid of our tangled fates. So thoroughly looking after the both of us and our relationship, never pushing away even the tiniest request when one of us needs anything.

When I return from my epiphany, Timmy’s eyes look to me, shockingly clear for a moment to communicate that he’s already had this epiphany on his own and that we need to tell Nick at some point soon. But Nick’s more pressing need trumps the talk we must have and the worship we want to give him.

“Plenty of room for all of us.” Timmy explains as he guides Niki to the toilet, the seat thankfully already raised from the last person who got tired of the ridiculous urinal routine. We fall into an easy semi-circle, Nick in the conventional position, then Timmy, then me, (“because you have more aim options with that monster dick of yours!” Timmy’s voice giggles in my head.)

Nick’s surprise gives way to urgency and as I undo my own fly, my eyes are focused on him as he pops the button and unzips the snug pants of his suit, promptly pulling his cock out over the waistband of his tight Calvin Kleins. But before he can settle properly into the stance and find relief, Timmy grabs his cock with a soft exclamation.

“You’ve got foreskin.” He says with gentle awe, leaning down to admire Nick’s penis, and I can’t hold a tiny smirk back. Playing with Niki’s foreskin was one of my favorite activities of our teenage years, watching his face as I varied the pressure of my lips and tongue, fingers gently retracting it then pulling it forward over the head and pinching it just past the tip of his dick. Watching him squirm and whine at all the sensations, so much more sensitive than I had ever been under my own ministrations.

But the little noises that escape Nick’s mouth now convey his discomfort and pleasure in equal manner. Timmy’s very slowly stroking in the tiniest movements, barely retracting Nick’s foreskin enough to reveal his urethra and part of the damp, spongy head of his cock, before letting it slide back over the head entirely. Much as Nick frequently rescues me from Timmy’s overeager affection, it’s my turn to swoop in, gently removing at least one of Tim’s hands from Nick’s cock and guiding him up so he’s not staring face to face with Nick’s spasming, flaring urethra. There will come a day when I watch Nick piss all over Timmy, maybe even his face, I know it. But right now is neither the place nor the time and Nick’s cock is starting to dribble helplessly.

“Let him piss, Timmy. You can hold it if you want, but make sure you keep his foreskin back.” I guide his hand to do just that, watching as the head of Nick’s cock is fully exposed for the first time. Nick obviously isn’t dwelling too much on the strangeness of this situation that should be present (yet isn’t) because the second it’s obvious he won’t piss all over Timmy or the floor, he groans, a thunderous stream of golden liquid splashing into the toilet. Timmy's fingers dutifully keep his foreskin just beyond the edge of the mushroom shape of Nick’s exposed cock head.

His aim is less steady though and it’s obvious why. Timmy’s potty dancing has reached critical levels. It takes me less than five seconds to wrap my arm around Timmy’s body, steadying him with my huge hand sliding around his back to his abdomen, and to the fly of the ridiculous leather pants he wore tonight. My brain would surely go offline permanently if I dwell on the pink panties I fish Timmy’s cock out of. Confident in my aim, his hand steadies on Nick’s cock and he sighs softly, finding his own relief as his piss begins to join Nick’s in the toilet bowl, a tiny hint darker, yet more softly scented.

My cock is throbbing, yet I’ve gotten damn good at pissing with a boner. My free hand gets my own pants open at long last, and despite Nick’s desperation, my stream is the most powerful and therefore, loudest. I feel the brush of recognition at my own awkwardness for the tiniest moment. Big dick, big urethra, big bladder, its capacity stretched even larger from years of playing holding games with myself. But it’s gone as soon as it tried to rear its ugly head.

We’re all rendered speechless, basking in the hazy warmth that comes with a good piss after waiting just a bit too long, loving the deep intimacy of the moment, and at least I’m thoroughly, thoroughly appreciating the three beautiful cocks all pouring hot, golden liquid, giving me enough jerk-off material to last me a century. Timmy finishes first, Niki not far behind, and I feel myself blush as they’re both giggling by the time I’m finished more than half a minute later. It’s a gentle, affectionate giggle though and before I can protest, they share a look. Nick pushes me back to the wall and promptly drops to his knees, nuzzling at my cock as it weeps a whole new kind of liquid now.

“Oh, Armie,” He says soft before taking me into his mouth and I’m done. Timmy slaps a hand across my mouth to muffle my shout as I come and come and come, oversensitive from having both of my cock’s needs satisfied in prompt succession. Niki laps me clean but leaves my reddened, wet dick hanging out of my pants as he stands and is promptly pulled into a kiss by Timmy, so heated it would leave my heart hurting if I didn’t love them both so very, very much. All I can do is watch with a satisfied glow as their tongues tangle, Nick feeding Timmy my cum and despite just having an orgasm, I’m right back to full mast so quick it almost hurts.

“Here, lemme…” Nick mumbles and guides his and Timmy’s rigid cocks together. Timmy watches fascinated as Nick lines them up so the heads meet, gently swiping the exposed tip of his cock against the head of Timmy’s before stabilizing the swollen lengths and stretching his foreskin forward, rolling it right past the head of his own cock and over the head of Timmy’s.

“Oh fuck!” I’m not sure if it was me or Timmy, but probably both of us said it because Timmy’s immediately pitching forward, his head landing on Nick’s shoulder as he comes hard and fast. The swell of the skin stretched over Timmy’s cock as it fills with cum is more for me to bare and with just two strokes, my second load splatters on the floor. Niki makes a sound I’ve never even heard before but shudders in Timmy’s arms, managing to hold Timmy’s weight as he reaches his own orgasm, aftershocks visibly rocking his solid frame.

They collide against me soon and the three of us are a mess of tangled limbs, rumpled clothes, and breathless praise. Our lips are soon as wet and flushed as our spent cocks as the three of us trade kisses, recovering from the mercilessly intimate experience we just shared.

We can’t be in here too long, so as soon as every combination of lips and caresses settles, we right our clothes. Nick looks curious, but all the nervousness is gone by the time I pull him in for another kiss, pulling back after a moment to graze the tips of our noses together. Timmy looks like the cat that got the cream as he settles under my other arm, smiling at the both of us as I drop a kiss into his hair and Nick reaches out to catch his hand. Lifts it to his lips, pressed a kiss to Timmy’s strong, graceful fingers.

I want to make a joke about having competition in the Prince Charming department, but for perhaps the first time in my life, I keep my mouth shut and just squeeze them close.

“Let’s go home.” I say after several beats. Timmy unlocks the stall door and we laugh our way out of the bathroom, that for one moment, is shockingly empty aside from a couple older guys next to each other at the urinals. I’m so grateful that Timmy and Nick seem to pay the sinks no attention. I want to be able to smell their hands as they touch me light in their sleep, lingering evidence of the extraordinary experience we just shared.

It’s no work at all to summon the car that’s been waiting for us (better than gambling on the discretion of a Lyft driver) and we all three pile into the backseat, Timmy once again in the middle, this time sprawling himself across both Nick and I, softening into our laps as we pet him, Nick and I sharing a glance as if neither of us can believe this beautiful boy is settled into us so sweetly.

Once upon a time, there was me & Nick. Then there was me & Timmy. And now I’m blessed with Timmy & Me & Nick. But before I can bask in the beauty of that thought, or think to the conversation waiting for us in the near future, Timmy is scrambling up, tapping frantically on the shoulder of our driver (Dave, we always use the same gentleman and tip him well for ignoring whatever goes on in the back seat.)

“Liquor store!” Timmy chirps and I can hear the chuckles as the car is promptly and smoothly guided to the side of the road, the driver used to Timmy’s antics. Timmy is up, leaping out onto the sidewalk with a strange sort of stumbling grace that I can’t look away from. “I want more vodka!” And with a big grin, he disappears into the store, Nick and I again sharing a fond glance for this incredible ball of light that Timmy is so frequently.

We sit in a comfortable silence as we wait for Tim’s return. Nick takes the opportunity to lean into me for a moment and I ruffle his dark hair, breathing deep the scent of his shampoo and sweat. After a moment, I feel him fidget.

“You okay?” I ask immediately. I want him to be completely comfortable with us, even if Timmy and I were the established relationship first, he’s an undeniable part of it, now and hopefully forever.

Nick knows me, hears the worry in my voice and flushes pink, pressing his lips to my cheek.

“Yeah, just gotta piss again.” He sounds sheepish but there’s also the tiniest hint of seduction in his voice. I’d never explored my piss kink with him, but like everything else about me, he’s just taken it with an easy acceptance and kept on loving me.

“Can you wait till we get home?” I don’t want him to hurt himself. As much as I enjoy holding it and the relief that comes with finally pissing, I know there’s a point where pleasure-pain becomes pain, and I don’t want Nick at that point. 

Nick squeezes my thigh, nuzzles into the hair just behind my ear as he whispers to me.

“I’ll try.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Play with me on Tumblr - findmecallingyou!


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